2020 New Years
by corneroffandom
Summary: A quick look into how the wrestlers ring in the new year.


A/N: I intended on this being finished a lot earlier in the month, but life was... life, and so, here we are. A little loose with timelines, but most are set around New Years. That said I'm going to do my best to get back onto a regular writing schedule and STAY on it, so readers of my weekly fics, expect those to be updated after the Royal Rumble. Thank you for your patience and I hope 2020 is being good to all of you.

Drake frowns as he looks over the ridiculous amount of decorations along his and Ethan's living room, fingers twitching at the prospects of having to take _all_ of this down. He groans and opens the closet, staring at the pile of boxes everything goes into before being dropped into storage and forgotten for another ten months. "Bullocks," he groans, pushing over a stepstool and climbing it to get to the top shelf. "Ethan, I swear-" he mumbles, reaching in for the pile. Only Ethan would put things needed on the _top_ shelf, without thinking about the times that their schedules conflict with each other, and Drake is left alone to deal with things of this nature. Logically he knows he could wait, Ethan would be home in the morning, and they could do this together, but Drake just wants to get back to some normalcy, especially now that his memories are slowly knitting back together.

He sighs and collects a pile of boxes, opting to drop them onto the floor unceremoniously before digging in for more. Before too long, the floor around him is covered in boxes, and the closet is empty. "Brilliant," he sighs, gingerly making his way down and kicking a box away to keep from smashing it. Once steady on his feet, he takes in the entirety of his mission and moans wearily. "_Bullocks._"

It's a tedious, boring job to do alone, collecting all of the ornaments off of the tree and gingerly wrapping them in paper and putting them safely back in their boxes, but Drake grits his teeth and does it anyway, eager to have their house back to normal. It doesn't help much that the tree is monstrous, towering over him- Ethan _had_ to go for the largest tree offered, didn't he?- and Drake hesitates underneath it, looking up. Remembers the slight wave of fear as Ethan had hoisted him up and held him, laughing and ignoring his indignant squawks, until Drake had reached up and put the tree topper in place, blushing but pleased when Ethan had carefully put him back down and cradled his face, kissing him deeply.

He eyes this same tree topper and huffs, dusting his hands off before going to reclaim his stepping stool. "Up we get," he mumbles to himself, climbing up the stool and reaching out for the star. He's just gotten ahold of it, exhaling softly, when he hears something behind him and he shifts too quickly to compensate- the stool tips, his balance fails, and he gasps, fingers digging into the star helplessly as he feels himself falling- falling- just to impact with something. He blinks a few times, breathing shallowly, frightened, until his senses awaken and he recognizes the warm, steady arms holding onto him.

"Drake! Hey, what happened?!" It's Ethan, somehow, home just in time to pluck him out of the air before he'd hit the ground, and he blinks owlishly, looking up at him. "Are you ok?"

"Sir, you're home," he says dumbly and Ethan squeezes him.

"Yeah, my flight came in earlier than I thought, I wanted to surprise you, so we could start New Years off right." He frowns, looking around at the boxes, the empty tree. "I didn't expect to be the one surprised though." He gently settles Drake down on his feet and takes the star from him, examining his hands where the sharp edges had bit into his flesh during his fall. "What happened?"

"I guess I moved too quickly when I heard you come in," Drake mumbles, not quite catching his eye. "Leave it to me to be such a bloody klutz."

Ethan shakes his head, letting out a breathless laugh and tugging him closer with one hand before resting the other on the back of Drake's neck, lightly massaging the tension he feels there away. "It's ok," he says after a moment, feeling Drake slowly starting to melt under his ministrations.

"Thank you for catching me, sir," Drake mumbles, pressing his face into Ethan's chest.

"Always, Drake," he whispers, holding him tightly and dropping a kiss to the top of Drake's head. "Always." He casts another look around the room and shakes his head. "C'mon, let's finish up with this, there are _much_ better ways to spend New Years."

"Yes sir," Drake sighs, pulling away and turning to resume putting things away. He casts a quick glance over at Ethan and smiles, relieved that 2020 is going to start with Ethan home after all.

-x

"Let me look," Mox says tensely, ignoring Seth's weary attempts at argument as he nonstop wiggles his fingers. "Seth. _Now._"

Seth grumbles, not liking being treated like a child, before resting his hand on Jon's, biting his lip and gasping as Jon slowly pulls the glove off, trying so hard to be careful with his fingers. "Shit," he hisses out, that one word drawn out and wavering with how much pain he's in proving everything Mox worried about after seeing Raw.

"Assholes," he mumbles, trailing his thumb over the swollen, bruised flesh. "What the hell were AoP thinking, dragging you up the ramp by the hand like that? Not that they were thinking at all, clearly," he corrects himself, carefully putting Seth's hand down and heading for the kitchen where he grabs ice, automatically putting it into a towel, still grumbling to himself. He turns and stops short, finding Seth standing in the doorway, hand cradled close to his chest and just staring at him. "What?"

"This is nice," he says quietly, not quite meeting Mox's eyes. "Having you back here, I mean. Fussing over me. Like... like old times."

Jon rolls his eyes and pushes forward, guiding Seth back into the living room, pressing the makeshift ice pack onto his knuckles. "Hold that," he says, his anxious energy returning as he gets to his feet and wanders around the room, biting at his nails, tugging at his hair, casting a glance over to Seth every now and again. "How's it feeling now?"

"Better," Seth exhales, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. "Thank you."

Jon shakes his head, turns to look at him. "I told you you weren't getting rid of me that easily. Stop acting so surprised."

Seth's smile is sardonic. "You did say I'd see you over the holidays. Missed the mark a little bit, but..." He shifts his hand, a soft grimace of pain dulling his smile further. "I suppose neither of us imagined it'd be like _this_."

Jon stares at him, slowly walking over to him and dropping down next to him, taking his chilled hand and resting the ice pack back onto it, lightly trailing his fingers over Seth's wrist. "I suppose not," he concedes, truth rattling around in his skull, clanking against his teeth, demanding to be said. Finally, Jon gives in. "I wouldn't want to spend my new year any other way."

Seth looks at him, sharp and intense. "Really?" he asks and Jon nods.

"Really," he says quietly, and Seth's shoulders slump as he exhales tiredly. "C'mere." Tucking Seth in close, he strokes his back, Seth's head coming to a rest on his shoulder. "It's gonna be ok." Seth's hand, them, all of their struggles in wrestling the past year, that's a truly broad statement to make, but once it's said, Jon doesn't bother to add on or try to take it back.

It just sounds right.

-x

"If I didn't know better," Ziggler says dryly, "I'd think you would rather spend New Years with Roode than me."

Zack doesn't seem to hear, still typing quickly into his phone. "I'm so close to finalizing these plans for the podcast," he says cheerfully. "Then we can leave and I can see how Bobby's recovery is doing, if he needs any suggestions. I mean, we've both really been through it all, right? I'm sure we could help him somehow."

Dolph rolls his eyes, reaching over and pushing Zack's phone down. "Kid, _come on,_" he says, rolling his eyes when Zack looks over at him, scandalized. "_Robert_ knows how to handle his own recovery, he's been in this business longer than both of us put together almost."

"Well, yeah," Zack says hesitantly. "Maybe, but I just-"

"No buts," Dolph tells him. "Trust me, he's fine." Not for the first time, Dolph finds himself overwhelmed and jealous as Zack stares at him, biting his lower lip. "Geez, kid, do I need to do something to get injured for a few weeks to get your attention or what?" It slips out. He hates himself immediately for letting any sort of jealousy show, but it had been festering for _so _long... The shocked, pained look on Zack's face, however, proves it was the wrong thing to say. "Kid-"

"Stop," Zack says, standing now and pacing away for a minute, tugging on his lower lip, before turning back to Dolph. "Man, bro, I really make you feel like that?" He shakes his head, a deep, dark agony in his gaze. "I never wanted to... I never..." He exhales, sounding like he's about to be sick. "I, I used to... Used to wonder what it'd be like to actually _need_ taken care of, if you'd... if you'd help at all, or if I'd be left alone to fend for myself while you chased AJ, or Lana, or stayed on the road six nights out of seven trying to find _something_ to fulfill yourself. Then I messed my arm up and tore my knee, and bro, I probably wouldn't have made it through or back to WWE as quickly as I did both times without you. And I told myself I'd never make you feel like that, like you had to doubt where my head was when it came to this relationship because I knew where yours was when things were bad, when I needed you."

Zack closes his eyes and buries his face in his hands for a moment before looking back at him. "I guess I royally messed that up, huh? Cause you do doubt us, and now you think you need to be injured to have my full attention and it's not... it's not right, bro. I never meant to put this whole thing with Curt ahead of you, or anything else. I'm really sorry."

Dolph exhales. Shakes his head, a wry smirk crossing his face. "C'mere, kid," he says quietly, and once Zack is pressed tight against him, Dolph kisses him. "Don't worry about it, I was just having a moment. It wasn't even really because of how busy you've been. You just talk a lot more complimentary towards my tag partner than me sometimes, and I think it'd make anyone second guess."

Zack blinks, hard, and then presses his forehead to Dolph's, staring deep into his eyes. "_Robert_ is a good guy, I like having him as a friend, but you," he says quietly, tracing his fingers over Dolph's lips, "are my best friend, you are my _husband_, and no one will ever replace you there. Alright?"

Dolph grins up at him, kissing the tips of his fingers. "Alright, kid. Sounds good to me."

Zack nods. "Me too. Now maybe, perhaps, leave Mandy and Otis alone?"

Dolph makes a huffing noise. "Never, kid. I need to get my entertainment from somewhere. We're not even on the same show anymore, I get _booooored._"

Zack laughs at him, rolling his eyes. "I hope you never felt the urge to treat _my_ mother's cakes like that."

"Mama Ryder's cooking never smelled like _that_, so no," he says, chuckling quietly.

"Good then," Zack says, before glancing at the clock. "Ok, we should absolutely go," he says, lightly pushing Dolph away and moving to collect a couple of things. "Should've let me know it was getting this late."

"I tried," Dolph says, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation.

Zack pauses and looks over at him with a weak smile. "I know, bro. I'm sorry. Hey, it'll be my new years resolution, ok? To be better about delegating what I need to do, so stuff like this doesn't happen again. How's that sound?"

Dolph nods slightly, stepping back into Zack's space and cupping his cheek before leaning in, kissing him. "Sounds pretty damn good, kid."

-x

"So," Wade says, trailing his fingers- sometimes his lips- over the lines of fresh ink Heath's gotten over the last few months. "How many tattoos do you plan to get _this_ year? Will there be any flesh toned areas left on you?" he teases, scraping his teeth over a stretch of pale skin along Heath's shoulders that are as of yet untouched.

"I dunno," Heath murmurs sleepily, enjoying Wade's ministrations as they lounge in the Florida warmth. "Just depends on how things go, what I'm feelin' like, I guess." He rolls over onto his back and stares up at Wade. "Would ya mind if I got more?"

Wade shakes his head, draws his fingers carefully over the newest lettering along his forearm. "No, it's your body after all. I was just curious." He leans in and kisses Heath on the mouth, smirking when he sighs softly. "One favor though? Hm?"

"Sure, what?" Heath says, following his mouth hungrily and causing Wade to smile slightly as he presses against his chest, holding him in place so they can continue talking.

Wade searches his face, running his fingers through Heath's bright hair. "No facial tattoos. Your arms, your legs, hell even your torso, fine. But let me have this. Ok?" He brushes his fingers over Heath's cheeks, along the line of his nose, over his forehead and ears, and smiles at him.

"Really?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"Yes, really," Wade murmurs to him, fingers moving slowly across Heath's skin as if he can't dare to stop touching him. "I rather like your face the way it is."

"Well, I mean, yeah, ok, if you're sure," Heath says softly. They stare at each other for a few, quiet moments, before sound blasts behind them and both men jump, startled out of their intimate moment.

Wade shifts so he can see fireworks dotting the night sky as well, wrapping an arm around Heath and kissing the top of his head, lingering as bright red, blue, gold and green reflect in Heath's eyes. He waits until it quiets, the last couple of fireworks fading away, before leaning forward and claiming Heath's mouth again.

Heath sighs and curls his fingers around Wade's jaw, clinging to him as they tease each other. "Hey, Happy New Year," he breathes out once Wade eases back slightly.

Wade's eyes gleam in the darkness. "Happy New Year, love."

-x

Ricardo can't remember the last time he was in California for holidays and could actually _enjoy_ them. He sighs softly, looking around at his home as the hours slowly pass, his mother and sister, the kids, the dogs, keeping him company. It's all great, he's enjoying every second of it, but still. He misses Alberto, who had had responsibilities of his own to deal with over the holidays and so could only spend some time with Ricardo. He knows Alberto will be able to spend New Years Day with him, and some of the plans whispered to him late at night on Christmas had sounded incredible, but he wishes they could ring in 2020 together, instead of states apart.

Midnight comes and goes, his mother and sister kiss him warmly on each cheek before wishing him a happy new year and taking the long-asleep children off to their beds, leaving him alone in the living room, staring at the dogs as they listen anxiously to the fireworks going off outside. "It's ok," he says quietly. "Just loud, bright fireworks. You're safe." Finally the fireworks calm and Ricardo exhales as quiet reigns.

He can't sleep, even though he's tired, insomnia doing what it always does to him when he wants sleep the most, so he sits there and hopes that he'll doze off eventually. He's still sitting there, scrolling through things on his phone a couple of hours later, when he hears a faint sound outside. The dogs hear it as well, and are immediately at the door, barking and whining, and his eyebrows furrow as he slowly stands and creeps over to the window to try to peek out.

From this angle all he can see is a car- fancy, glistening red in the dim light out front, and his eyes widen, recognizing the car. "El Patron?" Forcefully commanding the excited dogs to sit, Ricardo slips between them and grips the doorknob, pulling the door open a couple of inches to look out over the porch. "Hola?"

The scarf is the first thing he sees, then a familiar, soft grin. "Hola, mi valiente, may I come in or will the dogs bite my pantleg?"

Ricardo laughs, pulling the door open the rest of the way and throwing his arms around Alberto. "You're here! But... how?" He buries his face into Alberto's neck and enjoys his warmth, the feeling of his arms wrapping back around him, holding him tightly.

"I missed you," Alberto hums. "So I waited until the children fell asleep once the ball dropped, and called my pilot to bring me here as soon as possible."

Ricardo shakes his head. "You dragged your poor pilot out on New Years just, just to see me?"

"He was paid quite handsomely for it, don't worry." Alberto dips in and kisses him. "Now may we go inside? I feel like your dogs are just waiting to attack."

Ricardo chuckles faintly. "Yeah, sure," he sighs, gripping Alberto's hand and leading him inside. "Down," he reinforces to the dogs, who whine and shift around a bit but ultimately drop back down onto their haunches, watching this new entry into the home. "Good boys. Come on, El Patron," he says. "You must be exhausted."

"Si, somewhat," Alberto admits, allowing himself to be led through the house to the bedrooms. He smiles slightly when Ricardo flicks a light on and takes his luggage from him before immediately setting to work on making Alberto comfortable, easing his jacket and scarf off, folding them meticulously over a chair in the corner. He continues working quietly until Alberto is down to his tank top and shorts, looking up when Alberto curls his hands around his wrists, slowing him. "Mi valiente," he says.

Ricardo smiles up at him, releasing a soft breath. "I'm glad you're here, El Patron," he whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his face to Alberto's shoulder, sighing as Alberto runs his fingers through his hair, down his neck. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you as well," Alberto tells him quietly. "Do you think you can sleep?"

Ricardo flushes, still somewhat surprised at how easily Alberto can recognize the symptoms of his insomnia, even after all of the years they've been together. "I don't know," he admits lowly. "We should probably try, huh?"

"Si," Alberto says, sliding his hand into Ricardo's and leading him over to the bed. Ricardo pulls the sheets down and Alberto settles onto the bed, holding his arms out until Ricardo crawls into their warmth and buries his face in Alberto's chest. "Good?" he asks softly, carding his fingers through his hair.

"Very," Ricardo sighs softly. "I love you."

Alberto smiles down at him. "I love you as well. Happy New Year, Ricardo."

Ricardo's fingers stroke Alberto's side as he slowly pulls back and looks into his face with an exhausted sort of smile. "Happy New Year, Alberto." They kiss, soft and sleepy and slow, until Ricardo dozes off in his arms and Alberto hums, not far behind.

-x

"Ok," Enzo exhales, staring up at the ceiling. "Ok, um. Resolutions. Let's see." He furrows his brow, trying to find the right wording for what he's thinking. "I..." What sounds good in his head suddenly drifts away as Cass kisses him, slick heat against the column of his throat, and Enzo gasps. "Hey now," he chides weakly, not really wanting him to stop. "You want me to do this or not?"

"Yes, please, carry on," Cass says, voice muffled as he continues tasting Enzo's neck, down to his shoulders.

"Holy shit, man," he laughs. "You're the worst..." He closes his eyes and arches up as his body heats up pleasantly. "Ah, yeah, Cass, right there," he mumbles, ignoring his best friend's huff of laughter against his skin. "A- anyway," he continues, trying to focus even as Cass continues on kissing along his upper body. "I, uh, I ... I resolve to release new music this year."

"A good goal," Cass says softly, scraping his teeth along Enzo's collarbone and making him gasp.

"I resolve to make it to Japan to beat Tanga Tonga's ass," he declares into thin air, expecting ridicule or exasperation in response to holding on to this strange vendetta he has against the NJPW competitor.

Instead, Cass pauses in his trailing kisses and nods. "I'd be right by your side for that," he says simply, and Enzo shivers as warmth of a different nature creeps up his spine.

He reaches out and cradles Cass' face, feeling his lips tickle against his palm as he draws him up and stares into his eyes, deep and impassioned. "And I resolve to be good to you, to help ya through recovery, to always have your back, same as you've always had mine." Cass stares down at him, quiet and intense, and Enzo smiles. "Those are the main ones I can think of, unless you think I've forgotten somethin'-"

Cass swallows whatever else Enzo might've been about to say in a deep kiss as he wraps his arms around him and presses him closer. "I love you," he says into Enzo's skin. "I love you so much."

Enzo closes his eyes, plays with Cass' hair. "I love you too," he says softly. "More than words could probably describe."

"If anyone could find 'em, I'm sure it'd be you, Zo," Cass responds.

"Maybe," Enzo says with a shrug. "But I think I'd rather show ya," he says, eyes twinkling as he laces his fingers behind Cass' neck and arches up into him for another mind-melting kiss.

-x

TJ sighs, running over his schedule again and again, wanting it to be perfect before he uploads it to the internet. He smiles, looking at the title of his 2020 tour once more. Named after Pugsley, of course. Rubbing at his eyes, he exhales and stretches, tired of sitting in his chair, staring at the same screen for hours. "Ah, come on, Teddy," he rebukes himself. "It's New Years Eve, go spend it with your family."

So he does, standing up and stretching again, his arms up over his head as high up as they can go. Leaving his laptop behind, he frowns upon discovering just how quiet and dark the house is. "Neville?" he asks, lips twisting uncertainly as he feels his way down the hall towards the living room. "Hey, Nev-"

It's empty too, he can't even hear the pigs in their pens. Frowning harder, he squints into the dark and exhales when he realizes the door is opened a crack. Shuffling through the room, avoiding furniture and random pig toys sprawled across the floor, he makes a note to pick everything up before pulling the door open and peeking outside. His eyes soften and he smiles when he spots Neville sitting in the grass, Cupcake nudging one leg while Pugsley squirms in his hands, Neville's voice drifting back towards the door, low and calm.

"See the stars?" TJ overhears him as he approaches quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I had forgotten," he says, accent heavy as he whispers to the pigs. "So much has happened the last couple of years, but I saw someone mention it on twitter again, how pigs can't look up to see the sky. We should do this more often, hm?"

"That would be nice," TJ interjects, resting a hand on top of Neville's head and lightly stroking his hair. "But maybe next time invite someone else who'd like to come stare at the stars, yeah?"

Neville sets Pugsley down in his lap and looks askance at TJ. "It was the plan," he says wryly, "but I didn't want to disrupt all that important scheduling."

TJ hums and sits down, hoisting Cupcake into his lap and lightly stroking her ears, before quirking an eyebrow at Neville. "Now, now," he responds mildly. "Surely you can't be jealous over my doing my best to make sure I don't double book somewhere, huh?"

Neville shrugs, not quite meeting his eye, and TJ smirks. "Shut up." He exhales when TJ rests his head on his shoulder and reaches over, curling his arm around TJ's waist. "Everything's sorted then?"

"Yep, nice and organized, just gotta upload it to the website and push it to Twitter, but that can wait." He eases over and hovers close to Neville's face, waiting patiently until he turns to look at TJ, a nonplussed look on his face slowly morphing into something almost tender as TJ leans forward and their lips meet in a slow kiss that sends warmth curling through both of their veins. TJ sighs softly, his fingers tangling in Neville's long hair as he pulls away reluctantly. "I love you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to Neville's and searching his eyes.

"Fancy that," Neville says soflty. "I love you as well."

TJ brushes their noses together, winking at him with a wide grin, before turning his focus back to the stars and his pigs, resting his head on Neville's shoulder and enjoying the weight of his arm on his hip.

-x

Even with all of the Boys scattered around the mansion, doing Boy things, it's... quiet. Oddly empty without the Tate twins. Dalton closes his eyes and drops down onto his bed, stretching his arms out on either side, stroking where their bodies usually lay. He exhales slowly and shakes his head. He doesn't begrudge them this opportunity- they have fought for every chance gained, and as much as it hurts to let them go, he knows they deserve this time to show what they can really do.

He had had a chance once for similar things, and had blown it. Not that he regrets the turn his career has taken, if not for that, he may never have gotten so close to the Tates, but still. Still. It aches deep down to reflect on sometimes. He sighs, gingerly rolls over onto his side and hugs a pillow close, trying not to miss the Boys too much. _They'll be back,_ he reminds himself, burying his face in the soft fabric and breathing in and out steadily until sleep claims him.

He's still buried in pillows and sheets, lost to the world, when he vaguely registers whispers, movement nearby. He listens, wondering what his Boys could possibly want right now, when soft fingers ghost up his spine, and the bed shifts. He grits his teeth, about to yell at whichever Boys think they could lay in the Tates' spot, when a soft kiss is pressed to his jaw, another to his lips. He's awake fully now, instinctively kissing back, and Brent giggles into his mouth, the sudden sound warming him. "Boys?" he asks, voice a little awed, a lot highpitched. "My Boys? You're back already?"

"Well, yeah," Brandon says, brushing some of Dalton's hair out of his eyes. "It's nearly midnight, Dalton." Dalton blinks at him, blinks at Brent, and slowly looks to the window to see a crystalline night has claimed his island while he slept. "So we discussed it and we were both missing you lots, so we took the first flight available and your boatmaster was waiting for us when we called, so... here we are."

Dalton exhales slowly and holds both arms out to the Boys, smiling when they eagerly tuck in against his side, pressing their faces to his neck. "My Boys," he whispers, tilting his face and kissing Brent until Dalton feels Brent's toes curl against his ankle. Turning, he then kisses Brandon slow and easy , teasing a sharp gasp out of him as he clings to Dalton. "Oh... my pretty Boys," Dalton murmurs, easing away and running his thumbs over their lips. "I adore you both."

He wants to ask about their tryouts, what they think may happen from here, but it's New Years, and it's almost midnight, and they are where they belong, even if for just tonight, so he bites his tongue and he holds both Boy close and watches the clock with them, smiling when Brent tugs out his phone and starts a countdown when it hits 11:59. "20... 19... 18..." the Boys keep chanting, excitement building as the three of them wait for it to be officially 2020.

As soon as the clock turns over, Brent and Brandon turn towards him and kiss either side of his mouth, Dalton chuckling a little until Brandon eases back and Brent claims his spot close to Dalton, trailing his fingers through his hair and kissing him properly now. "Happy New Year, Dalton," Brandon whispers to him, and Dalton squeezes his hip even as he tilts his head up and eagerly returns Brent's affections.

Once Brent reluctantly breaks the kiss and rests his head back on Dalton's shoulder, Brandon presses back in and Dalton grins at him. "Happy New Year, my sweet, patient Boy." He hums, curling his fingers around Brandon's neck and drawing him in the rest of the way, searching his eyes and letting Brandon choose what happens next.

Both Boys' preferences shine through when it comes to intimacy- Brent has always been the more eager one, fine with Dalton taking charge, while Brandon is a little more shy and prefers to build up to things- and it shows especially now, Brandon slowly easing his thumb against Dalton's lips, watching his face, until finally he leans in and kisses Dalton, feathery light and gentle at first, but steadily growing in intensity and hunger as time ticks by. Dalton simply holds him and follows his lead, Brandon recognizing this and appreciating it if the look on his face is any indication. He parts Dalton's lips with his still lingering thumb and lets out a soft moan at the first true taste he gets of the man, and Dalton exhales shakily as Brandon eagerly explores his mouth. "I love you boys," he says once Brandon pulls back, resting his forehead against Dalton's as he tries to catch his breath, calm his racing pulse. "I'm so honored to get to spend another year with you both."

Brent and Brandon grin at him, still more than a little flushed and breathless, but absolutely glowing with happiness. "We love you too," Brent tells him, lifting his hand and curling their fingers together, kissing his knuckles, Brandon nodding against his side.

-x

James hums, holding his daughters close as midnight inches closer. "C'mon, guys, bedtime," he says, watching as Lilly's eyes droop for the third time in as many minutes.

"Oh, daddy, please-" Marina pleads, but James shakes his head, gently guiding them both to their feet and lightly urging them forward as he walks towards their bedroom. "I'm not sleepy though. Lilly should go to bed, but I can-"

"No, no, you can't," he says softly, unsurprised when she stumbles sleepily on the stairs. He braces her with one hand until she has her balance back before scooping her up. Walking upstairs is a little trecherous with Lilly tucked into his elbow on one side and Marina pressed into his shoulder on the other, but he manages it, holding his breath the entire time as his own balance wavers. "There we go," he whispers, wandering into the girls' room and tucking them in slowly. Leaning over, he kisses Lilly, smiling down at her as she cuddles into her pillows and falls still.

Marina fights it a little more but once he sits with her and strokes her wrist in slow circles, she drops off quickly enough. He stays, watching and listening, and maybe would've spent the rest of New Years Eve right there, but he hears a soft tapping noise from downstairs and frowns, wondering who could possibly be over at this hour. Getting to his feet, he makes his way back downstairs- a lot steadier this time, with free hands to hold onto the railing- and hesitates at the front door, hearing the noise again. Followed by...

"James? Are you... are you home? Hello? May- maybe I should call..."

He feels oddly cold and hot all at once and he grips the doorknob, pulling it open. Carmella is standing there in a tight, beautiful white dress, wavering on her high heels, and he swallows, immediately swayed by her beauty. Shaking his head, he struggles to focus on what really matters here. "Carmella? Wha- what are you doing?"

They tried to remain close for awhile after he'd been fired again, but their schedules hadn't jived, she started canceling visits when Total Divas started filming, too busy with that and everything else going on in her life to make the trip to Maryland, and before too long, he'd stopped even receiving text messages from her. It had ached, deep down inside, worse than any other lost friendships he'd experienced in this business over the years, but he had Lilly and Marina to consider, his own wrestling ventures to continue, so he had tried to set it aside. But seeing her here, now, wakes it all up for him again, and all he can do is gape at her, each wound reopening with a sharp pain that almost floors him.

"Jimmy," she says, and he thinks she might be a little bit drunk. "Can we- can we talk? I just really need to talk to you."

He swallows, hard, glancing up at the stairs. The house is quiet, and he can't risk his girls getting woke up for this. "Fine," he whispers, "but not in here." He grabs his jacket and hesitates, scooping up a second coat, before following her out, leaving the door open enough to hear in case the girls need anything.

She sits anxiously on the steps and looks up with a faint smile when he rests the coat over her shoulders. "Thanks." He doesn't respond and she exhales, trembling a little. "Jimmy-"

"Carmella," he says, and there's a bite in his voice that had never been there in the past. Not for her, anyway. He observes her flinch, and exhales, trying to calm down. "Why are you here at... oh, 11:50 on New Years Eve?" He bites back what he really wants to say, about her ruining his 2019, and clearly aiming to do the same to the start of his 2020, but he keeps ahold of his emotions and just waits for her to speak again.

Carmella closes her eyes and shivers, hugging his coat close to her. "Jimmy, I... I distanced myself from you because..." She whimpers and presses a hand to her mouth. "I was really sick for awhile there," she confesses and he gapes at her, floored by this admission. "I couldn't wrestle, I... I couldn't..."

"What was wrong?" he whispers, staring at her in horror. "Are you- are you ok now?" All past issues are temporarily forgotten as he reaches for her, biting his lip as that familiar warmth spreads through his veins when she clutches his hand "Carmella, please... talk to me."

She smiles sadly at him, tears beading in her eyes. "It doesn't really matter what it was, it's over now, I'm ok. It just... it took time to reach that diagnosis, you know? I was... I scared. But yeah, it was... it was nothing, ultimately, I'm fine. I'm back wrestling, I'm back... doing everything I wanted to do, but it still feels empty." She lightly slips her fingers out of his and shakes her head. "I know I deserve it, I could've gone to you, asked for your support, but it never felt... right. I did so little for you after you were fired, _again_, and..." She shakes her head. "I should've done more."

"Why didn't you?" he asks before slapping a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean for that to slip out," he says in a rush, eyes wide as she stares at him.

"No, it's fine, it's a... it's an understandable question," she breathes out. "I guess I didn't because I... I was afraid it'd take over my life," she says quietly and he shakes his head, not understanding.

"What do you mean? How?"

Carmella stares at her hands for a moment, clenched over her knees. "I, uhm. I figured it out last year. I..." She sighs, forcing her hands to relax. "I fell in love with you, James. And it scared me because I... didn't want the distraction in my career, right? So I distanced myself, and I insulted you, and you... you always stayed by my side, no matter what." She smiles wistfully. "And that would've been fine, I could've focused my feelings elserwhere, but I couldn't. Because when I was at my lowest, I just wanted you, but I had already ruined things."

He stares at her. Waits for her to burst out laughing and tell him she's joking, but she doesn't, just sits there and stares at her hands, waiting for him to... to, what, he's not sure. Yell? Kick her off of his porch? A strange pressure in his chest leaves him breathless and he sounds like he's being strangled, the words hard to come. "You... you what?"

"I fell in love with you." She smiles at him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "I still do, I just didn't know how to handle it. Everything's been so messy and complicated the last few years, and then... then I thought something was seriously wrong and it made me see things so differently. So I knew I had to see you, to tell you the truth." Her touch is gentle as she rests her hand on his arm and searches his face, a stark hesitation there as she next speaks. "I understand if you don't care, if you just want me to leave. Say the word, and I'll leave you and the girls alone."

James' gaze wanders, for a brief second, searching for something, some way to properly verbalize what he's feeling, but there's nothing. He's as hopeless as he was immediately following her kissing him on national TV. Then he hears the TV sounds drifting from the living room and notices the time, hovering right at 11:59. He swallows hard. _What a way to start the new year,_ he thinks, some of his brain cells slowly starting to wake up. _It's a new year. Holy shit._ And just like that, he finds his answer, reaching out and curling his fingers around the back of her neck and drawing her in close, staring at her for a few, agonizing moments. "Mella," he whispers, breathing against her lips, and she tilts her face up to his and he takes it as an invite, kissing her. Slow and tentative at first, but when she cards her fingers through his hair and whimpers softly, he shivers and parts his lips, relieved when she follows suit, quickly claiming control of the situation and pushing him back against the steps, continuing to kiss him intently.

His fingers tremble as he clings to her, never wanting to lose this moment, and when she slowly pulls away, he tries to follow, a faint moan echoing up from deep in his chest. She smiles down at him and rests her forehead against his, staring into his eyes. "I love you, Jimmy," she whispers to him.

"I love you too," he says softly, brushing her hair out of her eyes tenderly, and she releases a soft sob, kissing him again before he can ask.

"I was so sure I had ruined everything, that I would come here tonight and you'd tell me that I was just too late," she tells him quietly. "_So_ sure. Thank you, Jimmy. For never... never giving up on me, even when I really, really deserved it. Thank you for making this New Years the best I've ever had."

He smiles up at her, hands still sprawled gently along her hips, and she sighs, tucking herself back into his warmth and giving up on talking for now as they begin to make up for lost time.

-x

"Let me see," Robbie insists after Zema's latest match, only just getting reaccustomed to being back since his latest injury. It's with heavy reluctance that Zema sighs and gives in to his significant other, standing still as Robbie gives him a thorough once over. Cradles his face in his hands and searches his eyes, trailing his fingers over his nose, down his lips, along his jaw. "That seems ok," he mumbles, moving down slowly.

Zema closes his eyes and tries not to get defensive as Robbie's touch eases down his throat, over his shoulders, up his neck. His touch is _almost_ pleasant as it moves along his arms, down his chest, around to his back, but then he reaches Zema's abs, down his stomach to the scars below, and it takes everything in Zema not to lash out, hit him for looking at them, for _touching _them. Of course Robbie has seen and touched them before, always a certain pained gentleness in his eyes when he does, but it's still a work in progress for Zema to be comfortable with people around them so closely. He misses when his tattoo was unmarred, when he could work his abdominals without feeling the skin there tug strangely.

"This is fine," he says quietly, leaning forward and pressing an almost reverent kiss to the scars that had saved his love's life.

_This_ does Zema in, he shakes his head and grabs Robbie by the arm, tugging him upright. "Don't," he says tensely. "Don't... just... don't." He stares Robbie in the eye. "Please."

Robbie falters. Stares at him with his lips parted in confusion. "Z..."

"I don't like it when people... when people touch them," he gasps out. "I've told you this. Haven't I?" It's been a long couple of years, between the injuries, and the panic attacks, and the dependency on alcohol that he'd had to reign in on his own, he feels close to hyperventilating and can't remember clearly what he may have said, or done.

"I... I don't think so," Robbie says slowly. "But that, that's fine, I know now. I won't do it again. I swear, bro."

There's a fear in Robbie's eyes that catches Zema's attention when not much else has lately, his life a revolving set of terrible injuries one right after the other, only eased sometimes when he's in the ring, and it clicks with him like it does every now and again- how things must be for _Robbie,_ for everyone else who loves him and is forced to watch from the distance as Zema spirals, sometimes getting back on track, and sometimes falling apart worse than ever. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head, looking away. "I'm sorry. I really, really am, Robbie. I know you just want me safe and healthy, I just... don't think I know how to _be_ that. Not right now. Not like this."

Robbie nods, a sympathy in his eyes that Zema doesn't like seeing there. "I get it, bro. I'll... I'll try to be less pushy about things. I just wanted to make sure you're ok."

"I know," Zema breathes out. "I'm trying to be... I swear, it's just..." His words fail him as he doesn't even know how to explain how he's feeling right now.

Robbie exhales shakily and steps closer to him, careful not to crowd him. "Can I... I mean is it ok if I hug you right now?" he wonders.

Zema stares at him, relieved that he asks but feeling so unbelievably guilty that he feels the need to. "Yeah," he says quietly and when Robbie's arms link around him, he sinks into the familiarity, the warmth of Robbie's affections for him.

"I love you, Z," Robbie tells him, lips warm against his neck as he holds him.

"I love you too, Robbie. Thanks... thanks for being so understanding and patient to me. I know I'm not in the best place. But I... I am trying."

Robbie eases back a little and cups Zema's face, smiling at him. "Sometimes, that's all you can do, and trust me, it's more than enough." He glances at Zema's lips and, when Zema nods with a weak chuckle, Robbie kisses him, holding him close. "I will always have your back, Z. You never have to worry about that," he vows. He sighs, holding Zema close. "I promise you, 2020 will be one of the best years of our lives."

Zema sincerely hopes so as he leans into Robbie's warmth and tries to let go of everything, just relax for a few minutes.

-x

"'This is for Johnny Boy', huh?"

Ciampa tenses up, exhaling slowly as he turns to face Gargano. "What was that?" he asks, even though he's heard Johnny clearly, and he knows Johnny knows.

His former best friend smirks a little, scratches at the back of his neck as he looks up at the ceiling. "You yelled it when you were in the ring with Balor a few weeks back," he says, shifting forward on his feet a little.

Ciampa swallows and shrugs, trying to keep an impassive look on his face. "And?" he wonders, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything else. Johnny had been gone for a couple of months after Balor's attack, which had ruined Ciampa's vague plans of putting him on both his War Games team _and _his Survivor Series team.

"Well, I mean, we haven't really talked since your, you know, return from neck surgery," he says, glancing down to catch a glimpse of Ciampa's eyes. "How's all of that doing, anyway?"

"Fine," Tommaso says, not eager to go in-depth with his recovery. Johnny _had_ been the one to issue the final blow, after all, that had forced medical's hand in insisting he drop Goldy and get the surgery _now _instead of waiting, like Tommaso had been hoping to do_._

It must register in his eyes because Johnny falters, ever so slightly, and then steps forward. "It's been really good to see you slowly reclaiming your spot in that ring," he says quietly. "Like, you haven't really missed a step at all. And it's only been nine months. That's... that's incredible, truthfully. _You're_ incredible, Tommaso."

Ciampa stares at him, unsure how to feel about the look on his face. "I hated what Balor did to you." The words come of no volition, pouring out over each other, and he feels flushed and a little humiliated as Johnny stares at him. "They kept saying you had... neck issues, and it brought back a whole slew of bad memories, and... I would never want you to go through what I went through."

Johnny's eyes soften. "So that's why you targetted Balor."

Ciampa shifts. Exhales shakily, then nods. "Yeah. Pretty much. But, I mean, you're back now, so I guess you can get your own revenge on him from here out, huh." He turns to leave, worn out physically after the match he'd had and finding his emotional strength is fading thanks to this conversation.

"Hey, Tommaso," Johnny says and Ciampa stops midstep, waiting to hear what else he has to say. His breath catches, however, when Johnny walks up behind him and wraps an arm around him, just holding him tight against his chest. "Thank you."

"For what?" he murmurs, fighting every urge to lean into Johnny's embrace, to turn around and face him. Too much has gone on between the two of them, he can't expect things to return to the way they were before, but _God,_ this feels close.

"For having my back when I probably didn't deserve it." This time Ciampa _does_ turn around, seeing the guilt and recriminations in Johnny's eyes. "I know things were bottom of the barrel between us last winter, but I never... I never wanted to come this close to ending your career." He works his fingers gingerly under Tommaso's beard and finds the scar along his throat, watching as Tommaso shudders at his touch.

"It's not like I wasn't guilty of trying to do the same thing," CIampa whispers and Johnny shakes his head.

"Nothing you ever did to me led to serious neck surgery," he says softly, still touching the scar carefully, feeling the movement of his throat as Ciampa swallows. "I haven't apologized for that, so here, now. I'm saying it. I am so, so sorry, Tommaso."

Tommaso drops his head, burying his face into Johnny's chest, and Johnny sighs, softly stroking the back of his neck, along his skull. It's only for a brief while, before he stands up straight once more and stares Johnny in the eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, but if... if it eases your conscience, I'll accept it," he says through numb lips. Johnny smiles at him, warmth overcoming the guilt in his eyes, and Tommaso groans, realizing they're still pressed close together, his hands hovering over Johnny's lower back. "I kinda wanna kiss you right now," he mutters.

"I'm not sure exactly what's stopping you," Johnny admits and Ciampa laughs woefully, a good dozen reasons already coming to mind, but Johnny's fingers shift along his neck and he immediately forgets all of them as pleasant heat spreads through Ciampa's body, finally warming him from the chill he thinks he's had since the diagnosis of his neck injury.

"Dammit, Johnny," he hisses out, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of Johnny's neck before pulling him in and claiming his mouth. It starts off a little awkward, kind of rough and biting, his mess of a beard scratching against Johnny's face, but as Johnny leans into him and continues brushing his fingers over his neck, Ciampa relaxes into it and tilts his head, finding just the right angle, muscle memory reawakening as Johnny sighs and parts his lips under Ciampa's ministrations, allowing him to hold onto and deepen the kiss. When they finally ease away, flushed and panting a little, Ciampa presses his face to Johnny's shoulder. "I've missed you," he admits quietly.

Johnny chuckles and presses a kiss to the side of Tommaso's head. "I've missed you too," he murmurs. Easing a finger under Ciampa's chin, he guides his face up and smiles at him. "Let's have a better 2020 than this horrible year, alright? No injuries, no surgeries, and... let's face everything together."

"You'd really want to do that?" Ciampa asks, surprise clear in his face, his voice.

Johnny nods, eyes warm and hopeful. "Yeah, Tommaso. I really would." He holds his hand out and waits as Tommaso looks at it, looks up at him. Weighs everything before him.

"Well, all right then, we'll do that," he says after a few moments, lips twitching up into a smile of his own as he curls his fingers around Johnny's and squeezes gently.

-x

To Shinsuke's surprise, Okada recovers relatively quickly from his title loss. It stings, yes, but underneath all of his exhaustion and struggles to readjust to not having the strap around his shoulder, Nakamura senses a sort of relief underlying everything else. Perhaps it helps that Okada respects Naito for his unwavering determination to accomplish just what he had, no matter how long it took him.

Okada has him on video chat, walking slowly around the main square outside of his apartment complex, showing Shinsuke what decorations remain up and all of the people milling around, waiting same as he for midnight to strike and the sky to light up with fireworks. Likewise, Shinsuke is waiting on the balcony of his apartment, looking up at the afternoon sky. "It will be quite awhile before i see anything," he chuckles and Okada giggles.

"Hai, I suppose so," he says simply. Only a few moments later, a clock in the distance starts to go off proudly and Okada's eyes brighten as the sky lights up, the first couple of fireworks reflecting off of his eyes. Shinsuke is _almost_ disappointed when Okada turns his phone quickly and lets him get the full view of the fireworks. It's a fast, celebratory sort of display, and Shinsuke smiles when Okada turns his phone back onto himself once he's sure it's finished. "Alright?"

"Thank you," Shinsuke tells him. "It's was quite impressive."

Okada's teeth gleam as he grins once more at Shinsuke. "I thought so too," he says, the phone jostling a little as he walks, easing his way through the group of people only now starting to disperse.

"Where are you going?" Shinsuke wonders, noticing as his apartment disappears behind him.

"Sit somewhere so we can hear each other a little easier." Okada finds a somewhat secluded bench and drops down onto it, holding the phone at eye level. "You are happy then? Working with Zayn and Cesaro?"

"Yes," Nakamura says after a brief pause, uncertain about this sudden question. "I am. Why do you ask?"

Okada smiles at him, but there seems to be some sadness behind it. "Oh, just making sure," he says. "Have you surfed lately?"

Nakamura frowns at the attempt to change the topic, but goes with it for now. "No, it has been too cold, we have been too busy, but I will. Kazu-chan-"

"I didn't mean anything by asking it, Shin-chan," Okada cuts in. "Really. I suppose I am just at a crossroads right now, and I know you were somewhere similar to where I am currently not that long ago. I'm just happy that you have friends now."

Shinsuke exhales, shaking his head with a faint laugh. "I have always had friends, Kazu-chan. Even if they were separated from me by seas." He smiles wide, eyes crinkling deeply, and Kazuchika huffs out a laugh of his own. "And you have friends as well. Don't forget."

"I do," Okada confirms quietly. "Thank you for reminding me."

It is late for Kazuchika, and Shinsuke knows he could be doing any number of other things right now but between his touring with Smackdown, and Okada's ridiculous schedule leading up to Wrestle Kingdom, they haven't talked like this in what feels like forever, and he's loathe to let him go quite so soon. "I suppose I should let you go to celebrate, or sleep, or whatever Okada Kazuchika feels like doing to bring in 2020 properly."

Okada stares at his phone, scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip in thought, and shakes his head. "What if this is the perfect way to bring in 2020 though?" he wonders and Shinsuke blinks.

He smiles a little and shakes his head, settling in more comfortably on the patio, listening to the waves. _Maybe I should go surfing soon..._ "I miss you too, Kazu-chan," he says softly.

-x

Chad stirs and blinks sleepily as Jason eases out of bed and pads away, the bathroom door clicking shut a moment later. He smiles and rolls over, burying his face in Jason's pillow and breathing in until the bathroom door squeaks slightly, Jason tiptoeing back over. He settles down on the edge of the bed and brushes Chad's forehead with gentle fingers. "Did I wake you? Sorry," he whispers, eyes gleaming in the faint glow of the clock.

"S'ok," he says, shifting around so Jason can lay back down. As soon as he's comfortable, Chad presses his face into Jason's chest and hugs him close. "I'm glad your dad invited us over for New Years." Holidays have gotten more complicated since Jason's discovery of his familial ties to Kurt Angle- the year prior, they'd worked Christmas, so it had eased some of the tension because there had just been no _time_, and this year had thankfully worked out ok with little hassle. Thanksgiving with Chad's, Christmas with Jason's adopted family, and now New Years with the Angles.

"Me too," Jason says, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "It's been fun. I wouldn't want to ring in the new year any other way."

Chad smiles up at him and Jason beams back, hand gliding lazily up and down his spine. "Me neither," he murmurs, leaning up and kissing him. "Jason..."

"Chad," he echoes back against his lips, sighing softly as Chad spreads his fingers over the back of Jason's neck and holds him steady as he kisses him intently. "I love you so much," he murmurs.

"I love you more," Chad breathes out, making a soft, happy little noise deep in his throat when Jason squeezes his hip.

"Impossible," he whispers, and Chad shakes his head, pressing into the kiss more thoroughly, Jason's toes curling against his ankles in a way that always makes Chad feel pleasantly warm, finding it such a head rush to work out new ways to gain that level of reaction from Jason even after all this time.

"Nope, it's really not," he says smugly, a startled noise working its way out of him, eyes fluttering, as Jason reverses their positions, still holding onto him as _he _presses Chad into the pillows and kisses him breathless. "Not fair," he gasps, fingers working over the dips of the muscles in Jason's lower back as he tries not to completely lose himself in the flood of deep, affectionate need he has for the man currently swallowing each, hungry little noise he can't help but make.

"Oh, but it really is," Jason says with a smug grin, Chad rolling his eyes before arching up into him, chasing more kisses which Jason readily provides him. "Lemme show you how real quick..."

Later, half asleep and curled up in each other's arms, only somewhat registering the sunlight that is shining against their drapes, Chad presses a soft kiss to Jason's shoulder and whispers, "I wanna start every New Year just like this."

"Fancy that," Jason murmurs, and Chad can feel his smile growing against his temple as Jason presses another kiss there. "I do too."

-x

Shane lingers in the doorway to the bedroom, a perplexed, but amused, look on his face as he stands carefully still so as not to garner AJ's attention and take away from what he's currently doing. Which is standing in front of a mirror, arms stretched to his side in what _almost_ looks like Orton's signature pose. Shane gives it a few more moments before clearing his throat, watching with some satisfaction when AJ jumps and twists around to look at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

"A- ah, Shane!" he stammers. "I thought you were gonna be out for awhile, gettin' that stuff together for your New Years party later." He scrambles away from the mirror, trying to ignore what Shane just saw. "Everything go ok?"

"Oh yeah," Shane says with a pleased grin. "Everything went great. The things I wanted were in stock, and the stores weren't _too_ busy, so I was pretty much in and out." His hands are warm, sending pleasant tingles up AJ's body as Shane trails down his arms, enjoying his choice to wear tank tops and shorts around the house even in the dead of winter. "Sooooo," he drawls and AJ grimaces, knowing immediately what's next. "Any particular reason you're spending New Years Eve in front of the mirror, mimicking Randy Orton's pose, of all things?"

"Nope, none at all," AJ says, gazing somewhere just to the side to avoid Shane's amused, patient stare. He eventually cracks anyway at what he can see out of the corner of his eye on his significant other's face. "Ah dammit! Fine, I want to make him feel _so_ stupid after his stunt this week! Faking a knee injury at a live event just to get me to the ring so I'd let my guard down. So pathetic." He huffs and turns away from Shane, dropping down onto the bed heavily.

Shane chuckles and follows him, staring out of the window at the world spread below the penthouse apartment. "He really did put his all into that act, didn't he? The crutches, the guy helping him into the ring. It was _almost_ impressive." Feeling AJ's annoyed stare on the side of his head, Shane turns to look at him with a smirk. "I did say _almost_."

AJ rolls his eyes and then pulls his phone out, checking the time. "When do we have to leave anyway?"

"Ah, about an hour," Shane says easily. "There's time." He nudges AJ. "Thank you for agreeing to come again. I know my parties aren't really your thing, and you've gone the last few years, I would've given you an out if you'd wanted it."

"Well, now that ya mention it-" But AJ cuts himself off as Shane stares at him steadily, waiting for him to change his mind, a soft smirk crossing his lips. "Nah, I don't mind 'em too much. It's kinda fun seein' ya in your element." He nudges Shane, and then hovers against him, realizing anew that he misses seeing Shane as much. Now that he's out of WWE, they only get rare moments like these together, and... "It's fine."

Shane smiles and presses back, eyes shining in the pale light coming from the window. Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to the side of AJ's mouth. "Maybe afterwards, I can help you practice your RKO skills," he murmurs, laughing softly when AJ rolls his eyes, tilting his head purposely so their next kiss is more intimate, lingering and slow.

"I'd like that," AJ says once they finally ease apart, pleasantly flushed and smiling as Shane cards his fingers through his hair.

-x

It's not been an easy few months. Aleister's been on the road a lot, and Dream's been recovering, training as much as he's allowed at the performance center to try to strengthen his back for his eventual return, and Aleister knows the man is antsy, never a big fan of sitting still, risking losing the glow of his spotlight. The first time Aleister's actually home for any decent amount of time is during the holidays and he stirs from meditation to find Dream sprawled over their couch, cats curled up against him, purring. He laughs softly at the visual, the mirth rising up within him more when Dream stares coolly at him.

"Your cats have no sense of personal space," he says with a huff and Aleister clears his throat, easing out of his pose and joining them, careful not to jostle the cats as he lifts Dream's legs and rests them in his lap once he's settled, lazily massaging his thighs down to his knees and back up to his hips.

"I would have assumed you'd be used to that by now," he says softly, reaching out with his free hand and chuffing Totty under the chin.

Dream rolls his eyes. "I suppose," he acquiesces in a put-upon tone, and Aleister smirks at him, digging deeper into his muscles and working out a faint groan from Dream as tension eases out of his legs.

"You shouldn't work yourself so hard," Aleister chides him. "It's why your back is such a mess."

"Like you're one to talk," Dream grits out, fingers clenching into the cushions of the couch as Aleister kneads harder into his thighs. "Ah damn, what are you trying to do, kill me or something?"

Aleister hums, smoothing his fingers over his flesh, gently soothing the clenched muscles there. "Not at all." The cats have left, displeased by Dream's pained movements, which allows Aleister to ease down the couch more, raising Dream's upper body and supporting his head against his shoulder, tucking him in close. His fingers start pressing into Dream's back, working out the tension there, and Dream gasps into his ear, clinging to Aleister. "It's taken time," he says quietly, trying to distract Dream. "I'm still figuring out how best to mix my current schedule with the best kinds of work outs to better my stamina and flexibility so I don't get injured as easily. There's no way to fully avoid injury in our line of work, but there are ways to not overextend yourself."

Dream's lips part against Aleister's throat as Aleister finds a particularly tight spot in his lower back and massages it deeply until it relaxes with a rush of painful pleasure that leaves Dream arching into Aleister's fingers. "Oh, my God," he moans, fingers digging into Aleister's arm. "I- I've been trying," he says, voice soft and more than a little dazed. "Working out a better plan with the performance center guys, trying to figure out my body's limitations before they clear me to return. I just... I want it all, rig- right now. You kn- know that. It's- it's worked out alright for me in the past." He cradles Aleister's face in his hands, trailing his fingers over his lips, before kissing him.

"Yes, I do," Aleister says softly, struggling not to lose himself too thoroughly in the feel of Dream's lips and already working on another bunch of tense muscles. "But you see now that's not working very well. You're too young to risk your career like this, Patrick." He grips Dream's jaw with his free hand and searches his eyes, trying to give weight to his next few words. "The world needs your light for many, many years to come."

Dream blinks slowly at him, his eyes wet and piercing as they stare at each other, but he doesn't bother to respond, simply pressing a kiss to Aleister's jaw before settling back against his shoulder. The more Aleister massages out the painful tension in Dream's back, the more he relaxes into Aleister's chest, the softer he breathes until he's fast asleep in Aleister's arms.

Aleister smiles down at him and kisses his forehead before letting his hand rest, deciding to continue the massage later if he thinks he needs it. He sits and holds Dream, eyes trailing back and forth between his peaceful face and the clock ticking ever closer to the New Year. Almost an hour has passed and he sighs, looking down at the man still curled in his arms, fast asleep. Waits until the loud echoing boom of fireworks go off outside, bleeding blues and reds through the window overhead before kissing Dream until he stirs, knowing Dream would hate to miss this moment. "Happy New Year, Patrick," he says softly.

Dream stares up at him, yawns quietly, before looking over at the clock. "Oh, it's midnight," he says sleepily. "Huh." His movements are awkward, twitchy, but he wraps his arms around Aleister's neck and leans in, hovering over his mouth. "Happy New Year, Aleister," he murmurs back, skin warm and glistening in the glow of the fireworks still filling the night sky as he presses into him, tangling his fingers in his hair and kissing him. "I love you."

Aleister smiles. "I love you too."

-x

The sun is warm, the beach quiet, most families spending the holiday week at home, or out traveling, while Brian lounges, phone in hand as he types up the card for his next wrestling show, the first of the New Year. He's still thinking it all out, trying to decide what would make a good show, when he hears a throat clearing loudly behind him. Turning, he squints up to find Jack standing over his chair, a wide rimmed hat covering his head, thin shorts and one of Brian's unbuttoned shirts flapping slightly in the wind the only things truly protecting him from the elements. "Oh," Brian says, putting his phone aside. "I didn't think you wanted to come out after last time, Jacky boy."

Jack painstakingly sets up his own chair next to Brian's and sits down primly in it before casting a sharp look at Brian. "Would you mind?" he murmurs, handing out a tube of sunblock.

Brian shakes his head dumbly, taking it from him. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Everywhere the sun touches," Jack says with a sigh, settling back against the chair and closing his eyes as Brian shifts, hovering over him. "And do be generous with it. I burn quite easily."

"I know," Brian says. And he does, remembering all too clearly the days spent with Jack burnt, and peeling, and other painful things due to too much sun exposure. "I was going to come in soon so we could spend the rest of the day together, you didn't need to risk this..."

Jack opens an eye and stares at him. "Well, what's done is done now."

Brian shrugs. "True," he mumbles, pouring a generous amount of the lotion in his hands, allowing it to warm between his palms for a few moments before spreading it over Jack's throat, down his chest. Jack relaxes with a sigh as Brian massages it into his pecs, over his ribs, along his abs, taking his time, enjoying the feel of Jack's breathing changing when he touches him in certain ways. He pauses long enough to pour more into his hands before rubbing it slowly into Jack's thighs, over his knees, down to his ankles. He rubs it into Jack's feet one at a time and Jack hums, clearly enjoying this. Brian reluctantly puts his feet down once they're sufficiently covered, before creeping back up his body, hovering over him. Another couple squirts of the lotion into the palm of his hand and Brian gently strokes it over Jack's nose, his cheeks, his forehead.

When Jack opens his eyes, they stare at each other, and he smiles. "That feels quite well done, Mr. Kendrick. Thank you."

"My pleasure," Brian says, his voice thick as the heat of Jack's skin, the hidden strength in all of those muscles he'd felt under his fingers, how Jack had reacted to his touch, still remains fresh in his mind. He risks clearing his throat as Jack's lips twist into a smirk, a knowing look in his eyes that only intensifies the need Brian's been feeling since Jack had dropped down next to him. "Ah, dammit," he grouses, before gripping Jack's shirt and tugging him forward, claiming his lips in a sharp, heady sort of kiss.

Jack hums, tilts his head, and responds in kind, tangling his fingers in Brian's hair. His hat goes flying at some point and Brian tenses, probably about to go after it, continue trying to protect Jack from the elements, but Jack's fingers twist, the rush of pain lancing down Brian's scalp pulling him back into the moment and he bites Jack's lower lip.

"You're going to burn," Brian mumbles, and Jack shrugs.

"Take me inside then," he says, and Brian eases back on his heels to look at him for a moment, a perfect blend of perplexed and affectionate, before letting out a long, slow breath. Jack lets out a gasp as Brian stands and gets his arms under him and deadlifts him up, smirking when Jack wraps his arms around his neck and holds on as Brian turns and walks back up the beach to the guest houses where they've been staying through the holidays.

"Forget sometimes that even this old man can carry you around, huh?" he asks, some smugness in his voice as he shifts Jack in his arms to free a hand enough to work the door open, the slickness of Jack's lotion still coating his hands not doing him many favors in this attempt.

"Never," Jack mumbles, trailing kisses along his throat and jaw.

"_Finally,_" Brian hisses as the doorknob twists and he kicks the door open the rest of the way, pausing only long enough to force it shut behind them with his heel before carrying Jack down the hall into their bedroom, where he bypasses the welcoming looking bed to ease Jack onto the side of the tub, the cold porcelain against the back of his thighs leaving Jack gasping.

"Wha-"

"Sorry, Jack," Brian says, laughing a little at the confusion on his face. "Even I'm not willing to mess our sheets up with greasy sunblock. Luckily for you, this bathtub is huge."

Jack stares at him, then looks down at the tub. "I see," he says. "You indeed are the man with the plan." He taps Brian's nose and Brian smirks, gripping his hand and lightly kissing his palm, sending pleasant tingling sensations down his wrist into his arm.

"And never forget it, Jack," he says, leaning in to claim his lips once more. "I think a long, hot bath followed by being lazy in bed sounds like a decent enough way to ring in the New Year, don't you?"

"When are we _ever_ lazy in bed, Mr. Kendrick?" Jack breathes against his mouth and Brian pauses.

"Good point," he concedes before reaching over and turning the water on to fill the tub up.

-x

"This is a terrible way to spend the holidays," Matt observes, Mike pausing and looking over at him from where he's sitting on the floor, playing with Moon. "I'm sorry."

He blinks and shrugs. "Matt, it's not like you asked to break your ankle." He hesitates. "I wish you hadn't wrestled _through_ it for so long, but... I don't blame you." He stands and scoops the toddler up, depositing her in Matt's lap, sitting down next to him. "Listen, I'd much rather stay at home with my two favorite people, relaxed and comfortable, than have to go out and fight the crowds." He pokes Moon's nose and smiles down at her. "Isn't that right, baby girl?"

She waves her arms and presses her face into Matt's chest, babbling softly. Matt sighs and strokes the back of her head gently, looking over at Mike. "I know you're right," he says. "I still feel guilty though. Between Vinnie betraying me, and TK's concussion problems..." Mike squeezes his hand and Matt shakes his head. "I feel really alone sometimes when I'm on the road, and you're pretty much all I have anymore, you and Moon." He smiles down at the child before looking up at Mike. "Seriously though. What a crummy way to ring in the new year."

"Well, then, I guess I will just have to do my best to make it better for you," Mike says with a small grin, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Moon's head before getting up and walking out of the room.

"Oh boy," Matt murmurs to Moon. "What could daddy have up his sleeve now, huh?" She looks up at him, eyes blue and bright, and he sighs, feeling like he could drown in her stare for the rest of time until Mike bustles back in, holding a tray of... something. "What is _that_?"

He smirks, pulls up the silver cover and waits as Matt leans forward to take it all in. There are obnoxious glittery 2020 glasses, noisemakers, and two flutes with sparkling grape juice within. "A little impromptu New Years Eve celebration," he says, picking the glasses up and gingerly setting them on Matt's face. "Moon, what do you think, wanna give it a try?" he asks, helping her with one of the noisemakers. When it pops, her eyes grow wide and her bottom lip trembles.

"Aw, it's ok," Matt laughs, rubbing her back and kissing her forehead. "Just noisy, see? You're fine." She stares at him, sniffing a few times, before Mike distracts her by putting a child's version of the 2020 glasses on her. She blinks owlishly and shakes her head until they fall off, pressing her face back into Matt's side. "Someday you'll grow to appreciate the day and its silly habits more," he promises her, smiling up at Mike. "I know I have."

Mike grins at him and offers him one of the flutes before sitting down next to him. "I like taking care of you," he says after a few quiet moments. "I don't always get the chance, you're always so determined to _not_ feel like you're a burden to the rest of us. But, Matt, that's life. We want to take care of you, make sure everything's going good in your world, and it's not awful to just let us sometimes."

Matt closes his eyes and sips for a few moments before turning to face Mike. "It's just difficult because I think maybe if I hadn't tore my knee when I did, things would've been different for all of us. I know you've been unhappy for awhile, and I don't... I don't want to add to that."

Mike rolls his eyes and leans forward, cupping Matt's jaw. "Listen to me, Taven. In all the time I've known you, you've never once made me unhappy. Alright? Never forget that. I love you, and I want to make sure you're ok. So just let me every now and again, alright?"

Matt stares into his eyes, that sensation creeping through his veins again, and he nods slowly. "I'll try," he murmurs. "I will."

"Good," Bennett tells him, seizing his lips in a slow kiss. "You'd better."

-x

Ariya stares out of the hotel window, watching the water lap against the riverfront. "God, I love this view," he mutters, teeth bared into a pleased grin as Drew creeps up behind him and wraps an arm around his body.

"So do I," he comments, resting his jaw on Ariya's shoulder and staring at their reflection in the window.

Ariya chuckles, resting his hand on the side of Drew's face, tilting it just right so he can press a kiss to the side of Drew's mouth. "You know what I mean."

"Likewise," he says, fingers slipping under Ariya's unbuttoned floral shirt and stroking his abs. "Are we gonna just stand here by this cold window for the rest of the night?"

"Midnight'll be in like ten minutes," Ariya murmurs, leaning back into Drew's warmth and smiling as he snakes his other arm around him, holding him tight. "It'll be worth it."

"I guess, if you say so," he says. "But while I'm here... You can help keep me warm." He reaches up and rasps his hand over Ariya's shorn hair and grips the back of his neck, trailing kisses along his jaw, against his cheek, before meeting his lips in slow, thorough kisses that draws a faint groan from Ariya. Drew chuckles. "Like that?"

Ariya grips Drew's jaw and pulls him in closer, pressing their mouths together once more. He holds on so Drew can't interrupt the warm pleasure tingling through their bodies so easily this time, and sighs when they're still pressed close together and midnight strikes, fireworks beginning to stain the riverfront a moment later. They kiss through it, Drew's eyes fluttering as he watches the glow bathe Ariya in a technicolor wave until the fireworks ease off to a stop, and silence claims the riverfront once more.

Only then does Ariya let his hand ease away and Drew slowly, reluctantly pulls back from the kiss. "That was amazing," he whispers, resting his forehead against Ariya's.

Ariya smiles at him, eyes warm and deep. "It was," he agrees, stroking at Drew's lips. "You looked incredible."

"You look better," he says, feeling almost dumb as Ariya chuckles. "You did!"

"Thank you." Ariya pats his face, resting his head back against Drew's shoulder and casting one more, content glance over the river. "Happy New Year, Drew."

Drew smiles against Ariya's neck, kissing just under his hairline. "Happy New Year, Ariya."

They stand for a few moments longer, Ariya watching the dark expanse of water before them, and Drew watching him, until Ariya stirs with a soft sigh, turning to wrap his arms around Drew's neck. "So I suppose if you don't like making out close to this cold window, we could always take it to our nice warm bed," he teases.

"God, _yes_, please," Drew groans, wasting no time in gripping Ariya by the hips and dragging him away as Ariya laughs at him.

-x

Alexa sounds congested. Mickie lays next to her in bed, reading in the dimmest light possible from their lamp, and she can hear her breathing in and out shallowly, the rough, repetitive sound making Mickie grimace. Finally tiring of it, she puts her book down and gently grips Alexa by the arm and eases her onto her back, staring down at her face. "Ya never can just listen to me, can ya?" she asks with a soft smile, stroking her fingers down Alexa's jaw. "Shoulda taken more meds before ya fell asleep. Silly."

She bites her lip, wondering how best to wake Alexa up, before realizing it's almost midnight. _On New Years Eve!_ She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself for nearly forgetting. "Well, happy 2020 to both of us, Miss Bliss," she whispers, leaning forward and kissing Alexa gently as fireworks begin to echo through the neigborhood. She lingers, watching as the room is stained red, and Alexa wakes up with a gasp, clinging to Mickie as consciousness returns to her slowly. "Oh my God," she breathes out, voice sounding muffled and weird due to the lingering affects of her cold. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I could tell," Mickie says dryly, gracing Alexa with a small smile. "Well, sweets, it's midnight right now, and you sound _terrible._" She reaches over Alexa, ignoring the confused little pout on her sleepy face, and grabs the box of cold medicine that had been forgotten when they'd gotten distracted with each other. Well, up until Alexa had fallen asleep mid-kiss, anyway. Mickie chuckles and rolls her eyes before looking down, catching a glimpse of the guilt on Alexa's face. "Hey. It's ok, I'm just teasing you." She brushes some of the hair out of Alexa's eyes and leans in, kissing her until she looks a little less sad.

Alexa sniffs, shaking her head and breaking the kiss before it really even goes anywhere. "What a terrible way to ring in the new year," she whimpers, clinging to Mickie's arms while trembles rack her body "I'm sorry I'm ruining your holiday too."

"Hey now," Mickie says gently. "You're not ruinin' anything, ok? I've been running myself ragged since my surgery between my music and commentatin', charity work and everything else. So trust me, a quiet night spent at home with the most beautiful blonde in the world ain't nothing to fuss about."

Alexa closes her eyes and exhales roughly. "I'm not-" Her words die when Mickie grips her chin, gentle but with enough pressure to quiet her, their eyes meeting.

"You are," she insists softly. "Trust me, doesn't matter if you're sick or injured, sleep deprived or anything else. You're gorgeous." She tsks when Alexa lets out a shaky little sob at this and scoops her up into her arms, holding her tightly. "I've got you, it's ok. You're ok, it's fine," she croons, rocking her back and forth until she calms down. Easing her back against the pillows a few moments later, Mickie smiles down at her. "Now c'mon, what do you say?" She shakes the cold medicine box at Alexa and Alexa rolls her eyes, but nods with a muffled little grumble that makes Mickie smile. "That a girl."

Once Alexa's downed the pills with a generous amount of water, she slumps back into Mickie's embrace and looks down at the book Mickie had abandoned to tend to her. "Hey," she says softly. "Will you read to me?"

Mickie blinks, remembering what she was reading, and reaches over to bring the book over. "Sure, sweetie, if you want me to," she murmurs, kissing Alexa's temple. It's nothing special or deep, just some random romance novel she'd grabbed while on the road, desperate for something to occupy her time while waiting through flight delays, but Alexa doesn't seem to mind, soothed by Mickie's voice as she lays against her, blinking slowly and stroking her fingers up and down Mickie's wrist.

It's not much of a surprise when Mickie looks down after a couple of pages to find Alexa once more fast asleep, breathing somewhat easier. She smiles fondly and kisses Alexa's nose. "Night night, sweetie," she whispers to her, putting the book down and shifting carefully to watch her sleep until she too drifts off, warm and hopeful for good things ahead in the new year.

-x

Lana is _seething._ Tripping over her own words in a non-stop rant about _Her Bobby_ this and _Her Bobby _that, going on and on about Liv and Rusev and the failed wedding, and how humiliated she was. She doesn't seem to notice or care about the glazed over look on Tamina's face, her slackened grip on the book she'd been reading peacefully before Lana had stormed her way into the house and started in, hands on her hips as she stood over the couch Tamina had been stretched out on. "And I just- I really just- It's so unbelievable-"

She seems to finally be slowing down, struggling to catch her breath, and Tamina bites her lip, noticing, when Lana throws her head back and hair goes flying just right, that there's still a chunk of cake and frosting caught between her locks. Finally putting her book down with a reluctant sigh, Tamina gets to her feet and Lana stares at her, shocked, as if she had forgotten she was complaining to more than just thin air the last ten minutes. "You have a little something..." Tamina's lips twitch as she works her hands into Lana's hair and finds the piece of cake, only to find more particles like that. "Didn't you shower?"

Lana stares in horror at the leftover remnant of her terrible wedding and stomps her foot, one last show of anger, before all energy leaves her and she slumps. "I tried," she says quietly. "But you know how terrible the arena showers are, and I just... I wanted to catch the last red eye and leave all of that behind, get back home. To you. I didn't... I didn't realize..." Her lip starts to tremble, tears filling her eyes. "I'm an absolute disaster."

Tamina sighs and steps back. "I'll be right back," she promises when Lana's face falls even further, easing around her to head for the bathroom. She finds towels and Lana's favorite shampoo, and fills up a small basin that they'd used sometimes during Tamina's many recoveries from surgeries when she couldn't shower or bathe so easily. Returning to the living room, she settles on the floor and pats the spot in front of her. "C'mere, Lana."

Lana sniffs and wipes at her face before meekly walking forward and sinking down to sit in front of Tamina, her eyes downcast. "What are you doing?" she whispers, gasping when Tamina slowly guides her to dunk her long, blonde hair into the pleasantly warm water. She breathes out deeply when Tamina deftly saturates each strand before easing her up enough to work her fingers through, finding whatever remains of the cake and frosting, painstakingly wiping each bit off on the towels scattered on the floor around them. Lana shivers and Tamina presses in a little closer, trying to keep her warm.

"There we go," she says once she runs her fingers through Lana's hair and comes back with no significant amount of frosting on her skin. "Don't move." She picks up the basin, spreading out fresh towels under where Lana's hair is slowly dripping, and returns to the bathroom, rinsing it out and refilling it with fresh water. Returning to Lana's side, she places the basin on the floor once more and pours a liberal amount of shampoo into her hands, running it through Lana's hair. Cupping some of the water into her hands, she nudges Lana forward. "Close your eyes," she says softly, and once she's sure Lana's complied, she pours the warm water over her hair, continuing on until all of the suds are gone. Sitting Lana back up, she follows this all up with rubbing a generous amount of leave in conditioner into her hair, examining her quietly once done. "There we go, nice and clean once again."

Lana doesn't react for a long moment, still sitting there with her eyes closed and breathing roughly, and Tamina frowns, reaching out for her, but before she can actually touch her, Lana surges forward and buries her face into Tamina's shoulder, sobbing like the world has ended, throwing her arms around her and holding on tight like if she lets go, she'll fade away. "Everyone is always so awful to me, and you're just... you're just..." she wails, words barely making any sense as Tamina gingerly wraps her arms around her, rubbing her back.

"Hey, it's ok," she says soothingly, somewhat used to Lana's hysterics after being involved with her for so long.

"N- no, it's not!" she continues to cry. "You're always so loving and kind to me, and I... I..." She pulls back and stares at Tamina, face flushed and eyes red, just an all around picture of miserableness. "I go on and on about my divorce and Bobby, and... how do you stand it?" she whispers.

Tamina bites her lip and brushes away the tears still pouring down Lana's cheeks. "I suppose because you may do whatever silliness with those two on TV, but every time the cameras are gone, you're always coming home to me," she says slowly. "Even if it does take a minute to get your mind off of them afterwards." She sighs when Lana looks down, clearly ashamed. "But hey, I- I like listening to you." She grips Lana's jaw and makes her look up, a gentle expression on her face. "You're passionate and determined, and it's not really a bad thing, Lana. I just don't always want to hear about things that happen on Raw, you know? I watch it on TV week in and week out, it's more than enough, trust me."

Lana closes her eyes, nods. "I... I get it, I do. I'll try to be better." She reaches out and tangles her fingers with Tamina's as her touch gentles and shifts upwards, coming to a rest against her cheek. "Thank you for never giving up on me. Even when I'm at my worst."

Tamina smiles at her. "Never," she promises.

Lana smiles back and leans forward, pressing a sweet, slow kiss to Tamina's lips. "I promise to make this new year _very _good for you."

Tamina watches Lana as she tucks her legs in under her and presses in tight against Tamina's side, her eyes dark and soft. "Likewise," she whispers, wrapping an arm around her and dipping in to pick up where they'd left off.

-x

After Raw, Aiden keeps his distance, giving Rusev space to just be. He smells of cake, and he has a strange look on his face. Aiden's not sure if it's because _more_ of Lana's infidelities have surfaced, or just seeing her marry another man, or all of it all together, but Aiden resolves to let Rusev come to him, not to push. So he jumps when Rusev enters his line of sight a few minutes later, large hands resting solidly on his shoulders, squeezing. "Aiden."

"Rusev," he says, licking his lips anxiously as he looks up at him. "Are... do you need anything?"

Rusev smiles at his awkward, anxious attempt at support, and sits down next to him. "Actually I do," he says, sounding surprisingly cheerful for all he's been through the last few hours. Hell, the last few months. Aiden continues staring at him and Rusev grins back, shrugging. "It's a new year, Aiden, or nearly there, and I am tired of living in the past. Let Bob have Lana, I..." He hesitates. "I have found something better." He searches Aiden's face, pleased when a faint blush stains the man's pale flesh.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Aiden murmurs, breath catching in his throat as Rusev leans in and cradles his face in his hands, staring at him.

"Aw c'mon, Aiden, you know what," he says, before leaning in to kiss him. Aiden clings to him, eyes fluttering, and Rusev draws him in closer, the intensity of the kiss growing the more time passes.

"Rusev," he moans softly, Rusev tracing his fingers over his jaw as he slowly pulls back from the kiss. "I..."

"It's overwhelming sometimes, isn't it?" Rusev asks with a quiet smile. "I feel the same. Things were so different even just a few months ago."

"They were," Aiden nods, still holding onto his forearms as he tries to reorient himself. "Rusev..."

"Yes?"

Aiden hesitates, glances around a few moments, before resting his eyes on Rusev. "Are you happy?"

Rusev stares at him. "What a question," he says, sitting with a thoughtful look on his face. Aiden's anxiety grows at his solemn expression until finally he laughs and shakes his head. "Lana... I loved Lana a very long time, but I never seemed enough for her. You know?" Aiden nods and Rusev sighs. "But I know with you, I won't have that problem. You were always so dedicated to me, I didn't know what to do with that level of loyalty and I squandered it, but I will do my best to never make that same mistake again." He smiles and runs his thumb over Aiden's lips, watching his eyes darken as Rusev hovers close. "So yes, Aiden, I am very, very happy right now."

"Oh- good, I-" Aiden's words fail him as Rusev once more kisses him, parting his lips with his thumb and tasting him eagerly, Aiden's head spinning as he grips at his arms, struggling to keep up through all of the overwhelming emotions he's feeling. "I am too," he gasps out once Rusev eases back again, staring at him.

Rusev smiles at him. "Then it will be a very happy new year for both of us, Aiden."

For the first time in a long time, Aiden thinks so too.

-x

It's been a year full of ups and downs. AEW had hit the ground running, SCU left ROH behind and never really looked back, aiming immediately to become inaugural tag team champions of the new wrestling company. It was a good goal, and they succeeded at it, but not without cost. Daniels was injured and unable to compete alongside Frankie for the belts, and Frankie still regrets, somewhat, not being able to become tag champs with his best friend in the _third_ company running. As great as Scorpio Sky is, it's not the same, and sometimes Kaz wonders if Sky can sense it too. He hopes not, knowing that he's _lucky_ to be in this position at all, and it's not Sky's fault at all that things shook out this way.

Shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts, he leans towards the bartender. "Whatever's on tap, and your finest appletini, please."

To his credit, the guy only hesitates for a second before moving to make the drinks, Kaz watching closely to make sure the appletini is made the right way. Once he's appeased with the drinks, he turns and scans the room, looking for Chris. He doesn't see him in the main ballroom that Cody and Brandi had rented for this end of year/holiday party, nor does he spot him out in the hallway. Knowing that leaves only one place, he heads for the balcony and inhales as soon as the brisk, evening air washes over him. Spotting his best friend, he smiles a little and walks up next to him. "Whatcha doing out here, Chris?" he wonders, trying not to sound too concerned as he places Chris' drink down on the ledge before him.

Daniels tenses, only for a second, before casting a quick glance over at Kaz. "I dunno, just needed some air, I guess."

Daniels' problems hadn't ended with recovering from the nerve damage that had kept him from the tag title match- no. He had messed up a couple of moves he normally can do easier than breathing in a match shortly after his return, and it had hurt to watch how badly he judged himself for it afterwards. Not that the internet had helped in that regard.

Frankie sighs and reaches out, pressing his fingers against Chris' neck and lightly squeezing, trying to work out some of the tension he feels deep in the muscles there. "Hey man, drink up before a bird comes and has a taste or something," he urges, trying to smile but failing, especially when Daniels looks over at him and Frankie wonders if he should turn and walk back into the party, give Chris the space he clearly seems to be looking for once he sees the pain and aggravation in his eyes. He ultimately decides to stay, however.

Chris exhales and curls his fingers around the stem of the glass, staring at it. "I was just thinking about the past few months," he says slowly, and Kaz watches him, waiting for him to continue. "How fast everything moved, how... I expected more out of myself. Injuries and screwing up sequences I've been doing for years- that's not the Christopher Daniels I am, it's not the Christopher Chaniels who could easily put his mind to anything and find the best way to accomplish it like that." He snaps his fingers with a sigh. "I'm not sure when I lost him."

Kaz stares at him intensely and shakes his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, waiting until Chris looks over at him, a confused look on his face. "That guy you're going on about, he's my best friend and I see him every day."

Daniels blows out a frustrated breath and shrugs. "Do you? Do you really, Frankie? Because I don't think I've seen him in a long time."

Kaz abandons his beer next to Chris' martini glass and grips him by the shoulders, turning Chris to face him. "Of course he's in there," Kaz tells him. "He's the guy who dropped a known thing in ROH to come raise his flag in an unknown start up alongside me. He's the guy who fought _Adam Cole_ at the height of his influence and _won_." He reaches out and taps first Daniels' forehead, then his chest. "He's in here, and he's in here. Nothing's ever going to change that."

Chris exhales. Closes his eyes and smirks. "That guy wouldn't be half of what he is without one Frankie Kazarian, though. Wouldn't have bothered leaving ROH, wouldn't have had the chance to get the upperhand on Cole." He quirks an eyebrow as he reaches out and snags Kaz's hand, some of the angst leaving his gaze as Frankie's words break through the fog he'd found himself in. "Thank you."

Kaz grins and squeezes Chris' fingers before settling in next to him at the balcony ledge once more, reaching for his drink. "Any time, brother," he says, nudging Chris cheerfully. The air feels lighter, most of the tension gone. His eyes light up when he sees Chris pick up his appletini and take a generous sip of it. "Good?"

Chris looks over at him. "Perfect," he says with a soft smile.

-x

"What _are_ you doing, spending New Years Eve making notes?" Ricochet asks, a hint of amusement in his voice as he comes upon Dunne holed up around the kitchen table, painstakingly writing on a sheet of paper.

He jumps and looks up, eyes wide and startled. "I'm making a list," he says, pointedly going back to his scribbling.

"A list about what? Santa's long gone," Ricochet cracks, shrugging when Pete ignores him. "Hey, I thought it was funny." He sits across from Dunne and waits patiently as he continues filling up the page.

Finally Pete sits up straight and taps his pencil against the sheet, biting his lower lip thoughtfully. "Here," he grumbles, pushing the page over to Ricochet and waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You... made a graph of everyone in NXT and listed them from most annoying to somewhat acceptable," he says, eyes wide. A disbelieving laugh bursts out of his mouth. "_Why?_"

"The Dusty Classic is returning," Dunne says, ignoring his amusement at this. "There is a chance- slim though it may be- that someone might want to partner up with me. I wanted to get my thoughts straight on the matter before I make a decision."

"Oh my God, you make it sound like prom," Ricochet says in delight. "Wait, so Dream is 'neutral', but why is Riddle..." He stares at the list, then looks up at Dunne, whose expression doesn't change as he stares back. "Right, never mind." He continues running his fingers down the list, cackling to himself at such a transparent view of what Dunne thinks of his fellow competitors on the yellow brand. "Man oh man, how am I supposed to look some of these guys in the face now?"

Pete's glower grows and Ricochet beams at him. He stands and circles the table before snagging the paper out of Ricochet's hand. "Yes, well," he snaps. "_My_ dance partner of choice decided to team with someone else, and then leave, so it's not as though I have many options left to me right now."

Ricochet's jaw drops as Pete's words register with him, realizing after a moment that he's long gone, heavy steps against the hard wood floor audible as he stomps down the hallway. "Hey! Wait a second-" He stumbles getting out of the chair and then dashes after Pete, finding him carefully folding his list before tucking it into the corner pocket of his duffel bag. "Pete-"

"What?" he snaps, almost breaking the zipper as he zips his bag closed once more.

"I never thought you might want to partner up with me in something like this," Ricochet says quietly and Dunne leans back on his heels, running his fingers through his hair while pointedly not looking at him. "I mean, Aleister and I partnering together was just a thing of necessity, it didn't even... I mean, we're on the same brand now, and I never see him, he's always in that room of his, waiting for a fight. It was nothing, it... it meant nothing."

Pete doesn't say anything and Ricochet walks closer, sinking down so they're at the same level. "That's not the point," he mutters, glancing over to look at Ricochet. "I don't really care about what you did a year ago. I just... suppose it would have been _nice_ if things hadn't changed so drastically before I could get things settled in the UK and make the transition _to_ NXT."

Ricochet smiles at him. "I get it. I do. The timing was pretty terrible. But you're happy, right? To be here? To compete for NXT?" He feels a little desperate and wonders if it registers in his voice. Dunne had given up a lot of things to make it this far, and if he's feeling regret now, Ricochet's not sure if he could handle it.

Dunne sits quietly for awhile, lost in thought, and every second that ticks by feels like a fresh eternity to Ricochet, but finally he clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm happy." Said so simply that there's no way it's a fabrication or overblown to make Ricochet feel better. "I am far from a good team player so I sincerely doubt anyone will approach me, the list was just... my overthinking things again, I suppose."

Ricochet reaches out and touches his arm, smiling at him when Dunne finally looks up at him. "You're better than you think," he says. "And you can't argue with me because I've partnered with you a few times. I think we did pretty well for ourselves."

Pete looks away. "Right, we did."

"And if it was an option," he continues quietly, lightly touching Pete's jaw and turning him back towards where Ricochet is still sitting so he can look him in the eye, "we would've absolutely killed in the Dusty Classic this year, or any other year."

Dunne smirks, leaning into Ricochet's touch. "Probably."

"Who knows, people go back and forth to NXT all the time now, maybe we'll still have that chance some day," Ricochet hums, leaning in and grinning at Dunne.

"Yeah... maybe," Pete mumbles, tangling his fingers into Ricochet's collar and pulling him closer, kissing him.

"But seriously," Ricochet gasps, pulling back from the kiss and resting a hand on Pete's chest to hold him back long enough to speak. "Why _was_ Riddle in the 'acceptable' column?"

Pete rolls his eyes, curls his fingers around Ricochet's neck, and drags him back in for a kiss long and thorough enough that he forgets asking a question, much less what he was curious about in the first place.


End file.
